Aloha to my dad

It's been several weeks since my last blog entry. I've just returned from a sad and somewhat harrowing three weeks in Oregon. My father passed away.

It all began about a month earlier, when he was diagnosed with lung cancer. He learned shortly thereafter that his cancer was advanced and had metastasized to his bones and lymph nodes. His doctor told him he might buy a little time with chemotherapy, but his prognosis was poor. Dad tried to convince himself and us that he had a great chance of beating the odds and would be around to harass us for a several years to come. Deep down, however, I believe he knew better than the doctors themselves just how very sick he was.

On the morning of Wednesday, March 12, he was on his way to his first chemotherapy treatment. He had, of course, insisted on driving himself to the appointment. En-route, he suffered a major stroke, which paralyzed his entire left side. His brain was unable to send signals to the rest of his body, preventing him from braking and steering his truck. He sailed through a red light and into a school bus. Fortunately, he was traveling slowly and no kids were seriously injured. Dad sustained a nasty bump on the head and a minor, painful neck fracture, but no life threatening injuries. Rescue workers had to cut the door off his truck to get him out. When they got him to the hospital, they scanned his head to learn the nature of the stroke. They found multiple tumors in his brain. The cancer had spread there too. One of the tumors had bled out, causing the stroke. After 8 days in the hospital, he died. The cancer had won the war before my dad had a chance to step onto the battlefield.

Fortunately (if there can be something fortunate in all of this), he woke up, regaining lucidity. Friends and family came from near and far to visit with him. Those who couldn't make it to the hospital called him on the phone. He was well aware of everyone around him. Dad was able to spend quality time with those who loved him most. I was with him too, holding his hand until the end.

I miss him.

I've decided to post the obituary I wrote for him here, as a tribute to my dad.

Cecil Lee Todd

March 27, 1936 - March 20, 2008

SILVERTON - Cecil Lee Todd lost his short, but hard-fought battle with lung cancer on March 20, 2008. He was just shy of his 72nd birthday.

He was born in Carroll County, Missouri on March 27, 1936. Cecil moved to Silverton, Oregon when he was six years old, along with his parents, Ernest and Christine Todd, older brother Ernie and younger sister Tootsie (Florence). His childhood was a happy time, spent, as he would say, "runnin' around" with Ernie and their cousin, Jack Todd. He had plenty of pals, too and was well liked by his classmates in school. Cecil graduated from Silverton High in 1954. He played both linebacker and center for the football team there.

After graduation, Cecil traveled to Texas and California, winding his way through the southwest, sewing wild oats and seeking his fortune. He never found that fortune, but he had good fun trying. He returned to Silverton and married Beverly Steinberger in 1958. The couple raised a daughter, Toni, in Salem. They were divorced in 1978.

Cecil worked at Kilgore-Blackman Lumber in south Salem for 23 years. Toward the end of that stretch, he fell in love with Mickie Bennett and adopted her family as his own. Cecil and Mickie eventually separated, but remained best friends throughout his life.

He moved to Concord, California in the early 1980s. There, Cecil lived with Marilyn and Tom Long, Mickie's daughter and son-in-law. He worked for Tri-City Fencing for 15 years before retiring in 1999.

In recent years, he had returned to his old stomping grounds in Silverton. There, he enjoyed bumping into old friends and acquaintances. He also made a few new friends, too.

Cecil was passionate about politics and would rail against the democrats to anyone who would listen. He enjoyed hunting as a young man, belonged to the NRA and remained an avid gun collector throughout his life. Cecil also loved football, cars and especially NASCAR races. Recently, he embarked upon a new hobby: making jerky. Spicy or mild, he shared it with family, friends and a few pooches in his neighborhood. Cecil adored his granddaughters, Christina and Callie Long. He bragged about them constantly.

Cecil was a man who admitted to a few unhealthy vices. "If I had known I would live this long," he said in later years, "I woulda taken better care of myself."

Friends might describe Cecil as a real character. He was warm and easy-going , willing to share a yarn with anyone who would listen. He was also a good listener himself, a great sounding board if you needed to talk through your problems out loud. On the other hand, he was as stubborn as a mule when it came to taking advice. Dogs, cats and kids loved him. So did his family, friends, neighbors and coworkers. We'll all miss him very much.